


Survivors

by AmelieKeaton



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-02 14:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11510925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmelieKeaton/pseuds/AmelieKeaton
Summary: Elizabeth Hartley was ready for a normal Saturday night in A&E, dealing with drunkards and flirty teenagers. She wasn't, however, prepared for a sudden rush of patients from an attack that she had no information on. She also wasn't prepared to be thrown into a whole other world accompanied by a fiery haired prankster.





	1. A long Night

Chapter 1

What had started out as a quiet night had since descended into chaos. The afternoon had begun as a slow and predictable one, checking in on my patients, dealing with the odd idiot in A&E who had injured themselves in their drunken state. Weekends were always the worse for that kind of thing, and with it being a Saturday I expected nothing less from the city’s population, knowing we’d get more and more of the inebriated wounded as the day wore on. A delivery of drunken teenagers I could handle, however, a tidal wave of seriously injured patients involved in an attack that we have no information on was not something I had been mentally or physically prepared for today. I’d been tending to a 24-year-old male at the time, stitching up his face where he’d fallen on it whilst attempting to vault a wall. As usual for his type, he began his hospital visit with some terrible flirting, something I’d grown accustomed to dealing with from the male patients, but he was quickly shut down with a hard smack across the back of his head by who I assumed was his girlfriend, which had amused me to no end. He’d soon quietened down after that, patiently sitting very still as I stitched up the large cuts that covered his forehead and cheek. It didn’t take long to get him patched up and sent on his way with a couple of painkillers, left to nurse his wounds and his damaged ego on his own. I watched as he trudged towards the exit, receiving a stern telling off from his girlfriend as her quick reflexes pulled him safely away from the closed glass door he was about to walk into. I chuckled as I gathered up my equipment, throwing the packaging, bloodied cloths and used utensils into their respective bins, snapping off my gloves and throwing them in too. After clearing the protective sheet off the bed and covering it with a new one ready for the next patient, I gathered my clipboard and set to resume my nights' duties. 

“Doctor Hartley,” I was addressed from behind, prompting me to turn and acknowledge my company. 

“Alistair,” I greeted my friend and colleague with a smile. Nurse Alistair Richards and I had become good friends during my time here, ever since he’d assisted me with a particularly violent patient who refused to listen to my instructions and stay put, resulting in what very nearly became a wrestling match in the waiting room. “I didn’t realise you were working tonight, how are you finding the drunkards? Not giving you too much grief I hope? They seem to have started early tonight.” He laughed in response, rolling his eyes as he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing towards the curtained off room behind us. 

“Woman in cubicle three decided to accept a ‘coyote ugly style dancing on the bar’ dare, and as you can probably imagine, it ended with a concussion and a fractured ankle.” I bit my lip in an attempt to stifle my giggle at the mental image I currently had in my head. Drunk women were truly a different breed of human. As much as it filled me with disdain to see people acting in such a way, it did provide me with much-needed entertainment during the tediously long working hours. 

“They never fail to amuse do they, we should be thanking them for their services, it’s like a real-life episode of ‘You’ve Been Framed’ in here on a Saturday night.” My words were confirmed shortly after I spoke as a loud thud from behind alerted us to a patient who had managed to topple off their examination bed and was now being helped to their feet by an unamused looking nurse. At that, nurse Richards let out a snort, which elicited a laugh from me and quickly sent us into a fit of giggles. Our amusement was soon cut short as the senior nurse for the night, nurse Melissa Adams, approached us with a solemn look on her face.

“As much as I also enjoy a good laugh at the expense of our more intoxicated patients, I’m afraid all our nights are about to get slightly more hectic,” she addressed us both with a frown as we shared a look of confusion, “Doctor Hartley, whilst your help is invaluable and I wish we could keep you down here in A&E, we’re about to get an influx of severely wounded patients and Doctor Wilson has personally requested that you assist him in surgery.”

“What’s happened, why are we getting so many patients?” I questioned, pushing the thought of surgery to the back of my mind whilst I focused on gaining more information.

“Honestly my dear, I haven’t a clue, apparently there’s been some kind of attack. Patients are having to be transferred here as we’re the least busy and all other hospitals are already up to their necks in patients.”

“An attack? Oh my god, how many have been hurt?” My concerns were growing and by the looks on the faces of the nurses and doctors around me, they were sharing in my worry.

“Again, no idea, but I know it’s a lot, apparently there’s quite a few dead too. But we’ve been specifically asked for our discretion during this time, it would seem that this isn’t something that anyone wants the media getting their claws into.” I offered a solemn nod in response as I clutched my clipboard to my chest and chewed at my lip. A quiet had fallen over the A&E for a moment, the calm before the storm perhaps. I took a breath pushing any anxieties I had to the back of my head and forcing myself into soldier mode, something I had perfected during my time as an army medic. Being out on the front lines, seeing the death and destruction that littered the earth before me, although being extremely traumatic and emotionally scarring, had served to teach me a few things. I’d become excellent at detaching myself from my emotions when the moment called for it, focusing all my thoughts and energies on the problem before me. If there was ever a time to draw on this particular skill, something told me it was now. 

“I suppose I better get upstairs then, I’m sure Doctor Wilson is expecting me.” I offered a nod to both of my colleagues, placing a reassuring hand on Nurse Adam’s shoulder before gathering my things and making my way to the elevator, a sinking feeling wrapping tightly around my chest. Clearly, this was going to be a much longer night than I’d anticipated.

*

“Doctor Hartley, thank you for coming, we’re really going to need your help tonight,” Doctor Wilson began speaking before I’d even set two feet into the room, somehow managing to appear both frantic and calm at once as he hurried around gathering notes and instructing other doctors and nurses. 

“Always happy to help of course, although I haven't performed or assisted in a surgery since…” I hesitated as a flash of a memory came back to me, which I quickly pushed away before it allowed for more to break through. “I just don’t know if I’m right for the job when it’s going to be such a hectic night.” He paused for a moment to assess me, offering a sympathetic smile at my reluctance before crossing the room to stand in front of me.

“The fact that it’s going to be such a hectic night is exactly why we need you. I understand why you’re hesitant about this, but I know for a fact that you are one of the best doctors around here, and you’re used to performing under stressful conditions. I have every faith that you’re going to be brilliant, and honestly, we need every hand available to help… I need you to do this, okay Hartley?” His words were stern yet soft, demanding rather than asking yet still understanding of my anxieties when it came to surgery. I exhaled, releasing a breath I didn't realise I had been holding and offered a quick nod. He seemed sated by this response, patting me on the shoulder before continuing with his frantic organising.

“Patients will start arriving in around 10 minutes, take a moment to compose yourself and be outside operating theatre three ready to go in 5 minutes,” He called back over his shoulder as he rounded the corner, leaving me glued to the spot, my shoulders sagging as I blew a strand of hair from my face. 

“Looks like it’s time to finally get your shit together Els.” I grumbled to myself as I turned on the spot and headed towards the operating theatre, keen to get scrubbed up and ready to get this over with. 

*

I tapped my foot as I waited, leaning against the wall with my eyes tightly shut, working my hardest to focus my mind on the task ahead. It had been around a year since I last performed surgery, and while this particular surgery was going to be under much more controlled conditions than a battlefield generally offered, I couldn't help the feeling of unease that had wound itself tightly around my stomach. I was sure of my abilities, I knew I had the skills to perform a surgery without a great deal of trouble, but I hadn’t laid eyes on anything more serious than a cut or a broken bone since the incident that had led to my early retirement from army service. Unwillingly, my mind began to drift back to my past, the familiar sounds of distant yells muffled by the not so distant explosions, the weight of rubble and debris pushing down on my chest as I scrambled to escape. These memories were all too familiar seeing as they haunted me most nights, forcing me awake in a sweat or preventing me from sleeping in the first place. While it had become less prevalent for my nights to go this way, I still suffered from the night terrors more often than I’d like. I shook myself from my mind, realising the dangers of falling into that deep pit of anxiety right before a surgery. I blinked my eyes open, the bright hospital lights bringing me to my senses slightly as I heard a commotion travelling along the hallways towards me. Turning my attention towards the sound, I pushed myself off the wall as a group of people hurried in my direction, tending to a seriously battered looking patient on the stretcher they were wheeling alongside them. I spotted a group of people following close behind the paramedics, grief and worry painting their features, their faces tear stained as they trained their attention on what must be their family member. I straightened as they approached me, Doctor Wilson sending a sharp nod in my direction as we made eye contact.

“Doctor Hartley, we have a 20-year-old male, thrown back in a blast and partially buried beneath rubble. He has a few open wounds but we believe the majority of his injuries are internal, we’re going straight into surgery now.” I nodded as I followed the bed, assessing the patient before me. Dirt and blood was smudged across his face, coating his pale skin in a dark mixture of red and brown. Pieces of dirt and debris tangled into his copper hair, matting the strands messily together. We had approached the theatre where the door was being held open ready for the bed to be wheeled through. I paused as I felt a hand wrap around my wrist, halting me before I had a chance to enter the room.

“Please do everything you can,” the woman who I assumed to be the boys’ mother pleaded as she looked up at me with sad eyes. “Don’t let my boy die.” I turned towards her with a sympathetic gaze, placing a reassuring hand on hers as I spoke.

“I am going to do everything in my power to make sure he will be just fine, ok?” I offered my words of reassurance, pausing to acknowledge the rest of the distraught family members before continuing. “What’s your name?”

“Weasley, Molly Weasley,” She replied with a shaky voice, sniffing as she wiped away a tear. I spotted a nearby nurse, gesturing for her to come to us.

“Nurse, can you please take Mrs Weasley and her family to the waiting room and give them anything they might need,” I began, instructing the nurse who simply smiled and nodded in response. I turned back to Mrs Weasley before continuing, “I will personally find you myself once surgery’s over to let you know what’s going on, ok?” She nodded in response, allowing herself to be led away by the nurse, followed closely behind by the rest of her family, all of which had offered me a sombre smile and nod before leaving. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what was surely going to be a very long surgery before turning and swinging the doors open, my mind centred on one thing and one thing only. Saving this boys’ life. 

*

Now, I wasn’t right about everything, but I sure was right about one thing. This was the longest and most taxing surgery I’d been involved in so far in my career. The level of internal damage was concerning, meaning that finding a way to stem the internal bleeding had become our first port of call, and that certainly hadn’t been an easy job. Finding where the blood is coming from when all you can see is blood isn’t easy, and admittedly it took us longer than I would have liked to finally stem the flow, but we’d got there eventually. I breathed a sigh, swallowing deeply as I finished stitching up the last incision, finally bringing the surgery to a close. It had been an excruciatingly slow eight hours in which we had nearly lost the patient multiple times, thankfully managing to keep him clinging onto life long enough for us to get things fixed up. I’d surprised myself, falling back into surgeon mode much more easily than I’d predicted and managing to keep a cool head and steady hand throughout. Whilst I wasn’t heading the surgery myself and only assisting, I’d still found myself pleasantly surprised by the fact I hadn’t lost my skill in this area of medicine. I shared a tired and relieved smile with Doctor Wilson, accepting his praise with a modest chuckle as he patted me on the shoulder and ordered me to go get something to eat and drink. Apparently, I’d be back in surgery in 2 hours, which meant I definitely needed to take some time to compose myself, have a rest and build my strength back up. I watched with a mixed sense of pride and relief as nurses wheeled the patient out of the theatre and off to intensive care, where he would be spending the night under close observation. Whilst it was still a critical time and things would still be touch and go for perhaps the next 24 hours, I was pleased with what we had managed, eager to find the family and deliver the good news. Once I’d cleaned up and scrubbed out of surgery I exited the theatre, heading away from the break room in the direction of the waiting room.

“I thought I told you to go have a break, Hartley.” Doctor Wilson called out from behind me, sending me a stern glare as I turned back towards him. I raised my hands in surrender with a small smirk.

“I promise you, I will go straight to the break room, I just have something I need to do first.” I smiled, using my finger to draw a cross over my heart, holding my other hand up in pledge. 

“You want to be the one to tell the family,” It was a statement rather than a question, a soft smile stretching across his face. I nodded in response, smiling with a small shrug. “Go, but make it quick, you need a break.” With that he turned away, leaving me to continue my mission. It didn’t take me long to reach the waiting room where a quick glance through the window revealed a very tired and solemn looking family of redheads. I took a breath, tucking my hair behind my ear and straightening as I gently pushed the door open and stepped into the room. As soon as I entered all eyes were on me, Mrs Weasley rising from her seat in anticipation and worry as she spotted me. I blinked away my tiredness, closing the door softly behind me as I approached the family, gesturing for them to sit and taking a seat opposite them.

“What happened? Is he okay? Please tell me he’s okay…” His mother began firing questions at me before I had a chance to speak, prompting the youngest of the men to place a hand on her shoulder, silencing her.

“Bloody hell mum, let the woman speak will you,” he spoke softly as she nodded, offering a small sorry.

“It’s okay, I understand your worry. It was very touch and go for a while, but he’s stable for now,” every person in the room breathed a sigh of relief at my words, a small sob leaving Mrs Weasley at the news, “Now, whilst it’s good news, the next 24 hours are going to be crucial and we’re going to be keeping a very close eye on him. There was a lot of internal bleeding and damage, which we thankfully managed to fix up, but with internal injuries like this there’s always a risk, so we’ve moved him to intensive care. There will be a nurse either with him, or very close by at all times and I promise you he will be taken good care of.”

“So, he’s going to be okay?” this time the man I assumed to be Mr Weasley spoke, the first words I’d heard him say since being here. 

“Nothing’s set in stone.” I replied quietly with a sensitive smile, “As I said, he’s stable now, and we believe he’s going to pull through, but you have to understand that at this point I can’t make any definitive statements or promises.” I received small nods from everyone in the room, their solemn expressions slightly lessened but still present.

“Can we see him?” The youngest boy spoke up again, his arm wrapped around his mother comfortingly. 

“Of course, I’ll get a nurse to take you to him, but bear in mind he’s still unconscious at the moment.” I responded, rising from my seat and turning my head as I stifled a yawn.

“Oh, my dear you look exhausted,” Mrs Weasley pointed out, also leaving her seat and approaching me. “Thank you so very much for helping my boy, but I think you need a nap” She praised with a watery smile, pulling me into a hug and forcing a smile onto my face. 

“You’re very welcome, and I think you’re right.” I offered in return, releasing a quiet chuckle as I placed a hand on her shoulder before sending each of the family members a smile. “I’ll go find that nurse for you.” I turned to leave, just reaching the door before a voice called me back.

“Doctor,” I turned back towards the group expectantly, “What’s your name?” It was Mr Weasley who spoke again.

“Elizabeth Hartley.” I responded simply, to which he nodded in acknowledgement.

“Thank you for everything Miss Hartley.” I smiled warmly, turning the handle of the door and exiting the room, quickly scanning the area for a nurse who wasn't frantically busy. 

“Allie!” I called out when I spotted one of the nurses finishing up filing some papers, “Could you please take this family down to intensive care to see their son? It’s a Mr Weasley”

“Of course Els,” She replied, tucking the last of her papers away and heading towards the room. She stopped as she passed me, shooting a frown in my direction. “I think you need to go have a nap, followed by a very strong cup of coffee.” I laughed, rubbing my eyes and groaning as I caught my dishevelled appearance in the window’s reflection.

“Bloody hell look at me,” I chuckled running a hand through my hair, “I think you’re right.”  
With that, she left my side and entered the room full of Weasleys, leaving me to make my way slowly towards the break room, which felt very far away right now as I dragged my heavy feet through the hallway. I practically fell through the door when I finally got there, making a beeline for the sofa which was currently occupied by a familiar face. 

“Imogeeeeen,” I groaned as I flopped onto the sofa beside my best friend, collapsing onto my side and planting my head on her lap, “help me.” She laughed at my dramatic show, throwing her magazine onto the table and placing a hand on my head.

“Rest now child,” she joked, dramatically stroking my head. No more words were spoken between us, at least none that I heard, as I closed my eyes and fell asleep faster than I think I ever had. Thankfully for me, considering this was only allowed to be a power nap, my mind had locked away all bad thoughts, allowing me a dreamless sleep.


	2. The truth doesn't come out

Chapter 2

At this point I was practically dragging myself along, my body losing any strength it had once possessed a long time ago. My eyes had begun to get bleary and any noise around me had long since faded into a low hum. I vaguely remembered a stern Doctor Wilson ordering me out of the building, telling me to go home and get some sleep after our 4th surgery of the night had come to a close, however my response was a blur. He’d seemed to agree with what I said though so it must have at least partially made sense. I rounded the corner to intensive care, intent on checking in on my first and most memorable patient quickly before I headed home. In a short time, I’d found myself become strangely attached to this family, perhaps being drawn in by their friendliness and kind nature.

“Doctor Hartley,” I spun on my heel, coming face to face with a nurse I didn’t know well, but had encountered on a few occasions, something which my sleep deprived brain was currently scrambling for information on.

“Nurse… Erikson, right?” I prayed I’d gotten her name right, raising by eyebrows expectantly as I waited for her to respond.

“Yes, that’s right,” she laughed as I visible exhaled, glad I’d not embarrassed myself. “You coming to check up on a patient?”

“Yes, I was just curious as to how Mr Weasley was getting on, and if his family are doing okay.” I leaned against the wall, my tired body thankful for some support as it struggled to remain upright on its own.

“Still stable, things are looking good, all his vitals are fine and he seems to be doing better. He still hasn’t woken up yet.” I nodded, pleased with her response.

“That’s to be expected, he was pretty beat up, we thought it best that he stays unconscious for a while, give his body a chance to recover. What about his family?”

“All worried sick of course, but they seemed reassured. They actually mentioned you at one point.” I perked up at this, her statement catching my attention.

“They did?”

“Yeah, the mother mentioned you, she said she was glad he had such an attentive doctor taking care of him.” I smiled at this, glad that I had reassured them and given them some hope in such an awful time.

“Thank you Nurse Erikson.”

“It’s Sophie, and you’re welcome Doctor Hartley.” I pushed myself from the wall, preparing to leave and return to the soft sheets of my bed which currently called to me.

“Then it’s Elizabeth.” I responded with a wink, walking away from the nurse with a small wave and heading to the door before pausing. I quickly walked back towards her, handing her a card before speaking. “Sophie, if anything changes or if he wakes up, call me. This has my personal number on it. Doesn’t matter what time it is, just call.” She nodded as she took the card from my hand, saying goodbye as I went on my way, finally escaping from the hospital after the longest shift I think I’d ever worked.

*

The cool early morning air hit me, the weather taking a cold turn despite it being May and supposedly summer. On this occasion however, I didn’t mind, favouring the cool breeze over a warm sunshine, enjoying how the brisk weather had woken me up a bit. Thankfully I didn’t live far from the hospital, being lucky enough to find a flat just a few streets away and making my commute to work an enjoyable short walk. I went into autopilot as my feet carried me across roads and down the long pavements along the same path I followed multiple times a day. Before I’d even realised it, I was turning the key in the lock and swinging the door open to reveal my quiet apartment, brought to life only by the large cat that sauntered around the corner and narrowing her eyes in silent acknowledgement of my arrival.

“Hey Lorelei,” I called to the cat, prompting a quiet meow in response, “Sorry I’ve been away so long, you would not believe the night I’ve had.” I continued to talk to the cat, receiving the odd meow or purr to reassure me she was still listening. Before I knew it, the poor cat had been subjected to a complete retelling of my night and all its events in excruciating detail while I changed and prepared some food for both myself and her, which she practically inhaled before the bowl touched the ground. I’d made myself comfortable on the sofa, thoroughly enjoying my cheese on toast as I allowed my mind to wander. I found myself thinking about something I’d managed to completely overlook for the entire night, which was this “attack” that had brought all these patients to us in the first place. Now that I finally had a chance to think about it, not a single person had mentioned what the hell had happened to these people. Obviously there was some kind of explosion, which was clear to see from my first two patients of the night. My third however, appeared to have what looked like a gunshot wound on the inside, but didn’t resemble anything of the sort on the outside, which had thoroughly confused us all. Though it wasn’t something we really had a chance to think about at the time, it was our job to save their lives not figure out what happened. I pushed my plate aside swapping it for my laptop, suddenly eager to see if I could dig up anything on this mystery attack that, from what I had learned from my limited information, had left many dead and seriously injured.

Unfortunately, my efforts seemed to be fruitless, as after 45 minutes of mercilessly scouring the internet I had found nothing that offered an explanation for the death and destruction I’d witnessed over the last 18 or so hours. I closed up my laptop and placed it back in the table, stretching out my arms and legs as a yawn escaped me. In all my efforts to uncover the truth, I’d wasted 45 minutes of precious time that I could have, and should have, spent sleeping, something which I was now beginning to feel the effects of. The sudden burst of energy I’d gained from the cold air on the walk home and the cheese on toast had deserted me, with exhaustion taking over once again. I practically crawled out of the living room and into the bedroom, hauling myself into my bed and curling up beside Nova, who had already claimed her usual spot next to my pillow. I mumble out a slurred goodnight to the completely indifferent animal before sleep claimed me, and I allowed it to take me without protest.

*

I woke slowly, my mind bleary and confused as a shrill ringing rudely invaded my ears, along with a soft intermittent buzzing radiating through my pillow. I blindly fumbled around, my eyes still blinded by sleep as I attempted to cease the noise that had interrupted my beautiful sleep. My hand finally landed on the metal device that continued to buzz, which I quickly realised was my phone, and that it was ringing. I tapped at the screen in the general direction of where I assumed the button was to pick up the call, lifting it to my ear before mumbling out a hello.

“Doctor Hartley?” the voice came from the other end, “Sorry, did I wake you?” I scrambled to gather my thoughts, pushing myself up from the sheets and brushing my hair from my face before replying.

“No, no it’s fine. Sorry, who is this?” I questioned, still not fully awake enough to come to a conclusion on the identity of the caller.

“It’s Sophie Erikson, you asked me to call you if there was any change with Mr Weasley.” At this I perked up, the haze of sleep clearing from my mind as I pulled myself together.

“Sophie, yes of course, sorry I’m so out of it at the moment. What’s the change?” I explained my state quickly before getting to the important part.

“He’s woken up.” She answered simply, not feeling the need to go into detail at this point.

“Brilliant! And how’s he doing?” I exclaimed, pleased to hear he’d woken up, knowing that his family, who I’d become strangely attached to despite our short time together, must be delighted at this point.

“He’s doing great actually, bit sore understandably but everything looks good. He’s even feeling well enough to be cracking jokes about the whole situation.” She laughed as she filled me in, clearly amused by the way he had acted since waking up.

“That’s wonderful, I’m going to get ready and come back in now, I’d like to see how he is myself.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking a day off? You did just work an almost 20 hour shift.” I could practically feel her frown at me through the phone at my decision to come in, which I knew was probably completely called for.

“I promise I’m just going to pop in, see how he’s doing and then I’ll be off home to spend my day on the sofa watching Jeremy Kyle, happy?”

“That sounds like a brilliant plan to me.” her laugh rang through the phone, eliciting a smile from myself as I thanked her for calling before saying goodbye and ending the call. My energy had suddenly returned to me as I hopped out of bed and hurried into the bathroom. Catching a glimpse of my dishevelled state in the mirror reminded me that a shower was absolutely necessary before I even thought about leaving this building.

After a longer than necessary soak in the hot water and a lot of scrubbing, I felt much more ready to face the outside world than I had when I’d woken up. I checked my phone, curious to find out what time it actually was, with the screen informing me that it was 2:30pm. I supposed at least I’d managed to get about six hours sleep, which was better than nothing. Plus I was used to my sleeping patterns being sporadic, so the shorter than normal time was nothing new to me. It didn’t take me long after that to get ready, throwing on a pair of dark blue jeans and a soft white sweater along with a pair of black boots. I spent some time drying my hair, not keen to catch a chill in the unusually cold weather by leaving it at all damp, and pulled a brush through it to make my self at least semi-presentable. Pleased with how I’d managed to pull myself together I grabbed my bag, pouring some cat biscuits into an expectant Nova’s bowl in passing, and exited the flat.

The weather hadn’t warmed up much since this morning, the breeze making me thankful that I’d taken the extra time to dry my hair completely. Despite the breeze and my serious lack of sleep, I found myself in a good mood today. Although I had experienced one of the longest nights of my life, I’d done a lot of good and saved a lot of lives, which understandably had me feeling pretty great. I had a smile on my face as I rounded the corner to the hospital, the tall building coming into view as I approached.

“Elizabeth Grace Hartley, what the hell are you doing here?” I smiled as the familiar voice called out to me from the hospital's designated smoking area.

“Imogen Francesca Wright, what the hell are you doing smoking? I thought you’d quit?” I countered with a grin as I approached my friend, dramatically waving away the smoke that surrounded her whilst feigning a cough.

“Listen up, I’ve had a long night and I deserve this…” She argued with a pout.

“I’ve had a long night too, you don’t see me filling my lungs with crap,” I frowned, taking the cigarette from her hand and dropping it into the allocated bin. She grumbled in protest before throwing her arm around me.

“You, are supposed to be sleeping, not coming into work on your day off.”

“I’m not here to work don't worry,” I explained, leading her back towards the building’s entrance. “I’m just here to check up on a patient from last night, I was told he’d woken up and I want to see how he’s doing.” She frowned but allowed me to enter the hospital.

“Fine, but as soon as you’ve done that, you’re going straight home okay?” I placed my hand over my heart and nodded in agreement before she continued, “Perfect, because I’m coming with you, and we’re going to watch a crappy romance film and eat Chinese food because I need some girl time, k?”

“Yesssss,” I dragged out the word, wrapping my arm around her and resting my head on her shoulder as we walked.

“Text me when you’re all done and I’ll meet you by the entrance.”

“Aye aye cap’n,” I saluted, blowing her a kiss which she promptly caught, before I turned away and headed towards the intensive care unit, eager to see the progress of my patient. It didn’t take me long to get there, my feet in autopilot as I knew the hospital like the back of my hand by this point. I mean, that’s expected when you practically live in a place I suppose. I spotted Sophie as I entered the unit, offering a quick wave and a smile before continuing on my way to my destination. I paused as I reached the door, quickly peeking through the window to ensure I wouldn’t be interrupting anything before rapping my knuckles softly against the door and swinging it open.

“Hello,” I greeted with a bright smile as I entered the room, greeted by a number of equally bright smiles from the familiar copper haired family.

“Doctor Hartley!” Mrs Weasley hopped up from her chair, rushing towards me and enveloping me in an enthusiastic and warm hug, forcing a laugh from me.

“Please Mrs Weasley I’m off the clock, call me Elizabeth.” I offered a wink as she released me.

“In that case, call me Molly,” She responded, turning away and returning to her seat beside her son.

“And you can call me Fred.” my patient added from his position in bed, shooting me a cheeky wink to match the smirk on his lips.

“So, how are we all doing then?” I asked, brushing over his comment and directing my question at no one person in particular, but more at everyone.

“Oh we’re doing wonderful now thank you,” Mr Weasley replied enthusiastically.

“I’m doing fine too, thanks for asking…” Fred’s slightly quieter but still energetic voice quipped, earning a frown from Molly.

“Fred Weasley don't be so rude, this young woman saved your life.” she batted his arm gently as she scolded him.

“Ouch mum, I was only joking!” He responded, feigning pain at her gentle hit, “I am very appreciative of the life saving work that was done.” I laughed at his response, clearly his humour hadn’t been lessened at all by his near death experience.

“Well you seem to be doing fine, so I must have done a pretty good job,” I joked with a shrug, coming to stand at the foot of his bed, picking up and inspecting his charts out of habit more than anything.

“I didn’t think you’d be back in work this soon, I only saw you leave at about 6:30 this morning,” Molly expressed with a frown, her motherly side clearly taking over at the thought of someone overworking themselves. I held up my hands innocently, dropping into a spare seat.

“I’m not back to work, today’s actually my day off.”

“Then why on earth are you here my dear?” Molly laughed, clearly amused by my being here.

“I was informed that Fred had woken up, and I wanted to check on him myself.” I smiled in response, earning a happy sigh from the woman.

“Well I am truly flattered, I didn’t realise I was so special.” Fred chimed in once again, placing his hand over his heart with a smirk in my direction. His actions earned a couple of eye rolls and a sigh, yet this clearly didn’t lessen his amusement. After a moment, Mr Weasley rose from his seat with a frown on his face.

“I think I’m going to go have a look for George, he set off to find the cafe about 30 minutes ago, I can’t help but think he’s gotten lost along the way.” I couldn’t help but laugh at this, offering quick instructions on the direction of the cafe before he headed towards the door with a thank you. Barely a moment later, Mrs Weasley hopped out of her chair too.

“I could see it in his face, he didn’t retain a word of what you told him, he’s probably just as lost as George right now. I’ll just pop out and find them both before they end up wandering onto a random ward. You’ll stay here won’t you? We haven't left him on his own since he woke up.”

“Mum, I’m 20 years old I don't need a babysitter.” Fred groaned in response to her overprotective attitude, earning a stern glare in return.

“You do when you’re in hospital in intensive care.” That shut him up.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” I grinned at their exchange, waving her away and watching as she left the room, closing the door softly behind her. I rose from my seat, reclaiming the charts once again and scanning them for a second time to ensure everything looked okay. Silence had fallen between us as I examined the data and notes, finally concluding that everything looked wonderfully normal.

“So you’re feeling fine today? No pains, dizziness, fatigue?” I questioned, hanging the chart back on the end of the bed and claiming Molly’s seat beside him.

“Nope, none of that, apart from a few aches and pains that I assume are normal.” I nodded with a smile, pleased that he seemed to be doing well.

“I’m really glad to hear it, you know you are very lucky to be alive right now Mr Weasley.” I leaned back in my seat, recalling the tricky nature and stress of the surgery.

“My god Elizabeth, don’t call me Mr Weasley, I’m not my dads age yet,” He groaned with a grin, which I mirrored, “and I’ve heard that I have you to thank for that, mum wont shut up about it actually.” I raised my eyebrow at this, prompting him to continue with an explanation.

“Honestly I think my mum likes you more than she likes me. Ever since I’ve woken up all it’s been is ‘Doctor Hartley this’, ‘Doctor Hartley that’. You’ve certainly made an impression on my family.” He explained, amusement in his voice rather than contempt.

“Well I’m glad I left a positive impression, I saw how distraught they were and wanted to help in any way I could. I suppose it comes with being a doctor, you can’t help but want to help. Also, if I’m calling you Fred then you can call me Elsie, only my mum calls me Elizabeth when I’m in trouble” He laughed at this, nodding in understanding.

“Really though, thank you,” He was more serious now, appreciation and sincerity in his tone, “You did save my life, and you helped my family through a really tough time, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I replied quietly. I was slightly taken aback by his sudden seriousness, all traces of any jokiness evaporating. It made me more than happy to hear that I’d helped this family, helped them to cope and struggle through a trying time. I didn’t know what it was like to lose a family member, but I did know what it was like to see a family who’d lost someone they love, to have to tell them that their son or daughter, father or mother, wouldn’t be returning to them. So to know that I had at least given them some peace in such an uncertain time gave me a warm feeling inside. I spotted Fred wince, an action he clearly thought I hadn’t noticed. Unfortunately for him, I’d dealt with enough patients in denial over the years to know when they were hiding something from me.

“You’re in pain.” I stated, drawing his attention back to me.

“What? No I’m fine.” I rolled my eyes, raising my eyebrow as I waited for him to tell me the truth. Eventually, with a dramatic sigh he relented.

“It’s not that bad honestly, just a bit of pain where the wound is, but that’s to be expected right?” He admitted, looking up at me questioningly as I frowned.

“Yes of course, you’ll get some pain in the area for a while until it’s healed, but I’d like to take a quick look at it anyway, if that’s alright?”

“I thought you were off duty?” he smirked with a raised brow, earning yet another eye roll from myself.

“Hush up and let me have a look.” I scolded, pulling back the covers and reaching for the dressing. I peeled it back slowly, careful not to aggravate the stitches as I removed it, uncovering the large and angry looking wound.

“Well that’s going to leave a scar…” He mumbled with amusement, his gaze fixed on the stitched up wound as I uncovered it. I smiled, enjoying how positive he was despite the circumstances.

“Yes it’s definitely going to leave a scar, but it’ll look really badass.” He perked up at this, turning his attention to me with a wide grin, a smile which I matched as my attention remained on the injured area.

“Every cloud aye?” He chuckled, wincing slightly as I accidentally nudged one of the stitches, which I quickly apologised for.

“Well it looks fine, doesn’t look infected and my handiwork is all still intact,” I announced proudly, pleased at how neat and clean it was looking. “Your chart says you last had painkillers at around 8:30am, so you’re definitely due for a top up.” He clapped his hands animatedly at this, clearly pleased to be receiving something else to numb the pain. I slowly began re-covering the wound, careful not to catch the stitches again. My mind wandered to the night before and my internet searches which turned up no evidence of any attack, my curiosity resurfacing once again. I chewed my lip in thought as I finished replacing the dressings, pulling the bed sheet back over him and dropping into the chair.

“Fred…” I began, not sure how exactly to ask the question, the secrecy of the event playing at my mind. He hummed in response, waiting for me to continue. “What happened?” I watched him carefully, interested to gauge his response to my question.

“What do you mean?” He asked slowly, you could practically see the gears turning in his brain as he worked to conceived a response to whatever I was asking.

“You know what I mean,” I frowned, noticing that he was obviously keen to avoid the subject, “This ‘attack’ or ‘accident’ or whatever it was… what happened? I tried I find out but there’s nothing about it anywhere, and none of the doctors or nurses here seem to know what happened either.” He turned his gaze away from me as I watched him closely while he considered my question. He remained silent for a while before sighing, running his hand through his hair as he finally gave in and met my eye.

“I can’t tell you, and I need you to just trust me okay?” I frowned as his unexpected response, not understanding why he couldn’t tell me.

“And why should I do that? Just trust you when you wont give me an explanation?” I responded, frustrated that he was refusing to give me the answers I wanted.

“I trusted you with my life, didn't I?” He attempted to argue, receiving only a frown in response from me.

“You were unconscious, you didn’t really have a choice,” I pointed out, much to his dismay.

“Look, you don’t need to worry, nothing like this will ever happen again I swear.”

“Just because something wont happen again doesn’t mean I don’t want to know what that something was.” I was frustrated, desperate to know what had led to all this chaos and irritated that the one person who could tell me the truth, wouldn’t.

“Please, Elsie, believe me when I say that I would love to tell you. I get why you’d want to know, it’s become a part of your life now and you deserve to know. But I just can’t tell you, I’m sorry.” I nodded in response, accepting that I was going to learn nothing by arguing.

“Okay.” I responded simply, the guilt on his face instantly washing away my anger and frustration. He must have a very good reason for not being able to tell me, perhaps he was in danger, I didn’t know and really it wasn’t my place to push for an explanation, as much as I’d like one. Sensing that the atmosphere had become tense, I sighed, turning my gaze back to him.

“I’m sorry for pushing, if you say you can’t tell me then that’s okay,” I spoke quietly, offering a small smile which he responded to in like, “I really am glad you’re doing better, I’m sure you’ll be going home in no time.”

“It’s okay, I’m sorry for leaving you with all these questions.” I waved off his apology, not feeling that it was necessary for him to give any more explanation to his decision. Only a few moments later, the door swung open to reveal the three missing family members, each clutching a coffee along with a variety of snacks. I grinned at their appearance, their entrance instantly washing away the tension in the room and replacing it with its earlier light atmosphere. I hopped up from my seat, giving Fred’s hand a gentle squeeze and shooting him an apologetic smile before turning to the rest of our company.

“I’m glad to see you found the missing Weasleys,” I chuckled, moving towards the door as they reclaimed their earlier seats, “I should head home now, I have a lot of sleep I should be catching up on. I’m really glad to see how well you’re doing Fred,” I directed my words to the bed in the centre of the room, a nod and a thanks being received in response. “I will be back again tomorrow to check up on you… as your doctor this time.”

“Thank you for coming in Elizabeth, and thank you once again for everything.” I waved my hand with a frown.

“You’re going to have to stop thanking me eventually you know.” I chuckled, receiving an apology which I also waved off.

“Thanks Els.” Fred added quietly, the sincerity back in his tone. I had a feeling he wasn’t just thanking me for helping him, but also for not pressing for an explanation. I chewed at my lip, something I always did when I was stuck in my head, considering things in far more detail than was necessary. I send him a curt nod and a small smile as I turned and left the room. While I may have agreed to stop pressing him for answers, I never said I wouldn’t try and find them through other avenues.

*

I sunk into the sofa, pulling the blanket off the arm rest and wrapping it tightly around myself. It had been a long day and I was certainly in need of a girly hangout session. Chinese takeaway boxes covered the table, a result of Imogen and I ordering excessive amounts of food as usual. I grabbed the closest box, opening it up to reveal egg fried rice which I quickly began to dig into as Imogen finished putting on the DVD and leapt across the table, tumbling onto the sofa in a heap of limbs.

“Save some food for the rest of us won’t you Els?” She teased, grabbing a box from the table and quickly getting stuck in.

“Im… there’s literally enough food here for 20 people, I don’t think we’re going to run out.” I rolled my eyes, turning my attention to the TV as the opening of ‘Bring it On’ flashed up on the screen. We fell into silence, too busy stuffing our faces to engage in conversation and happily enjoying the film. It was Imogen who finally broke the long silence, unsurprisingly with an inappropriate and awkward comment.

“So… that patient of yours.” She glanced at me suggestively, her eyebrows raised as I glanced back with my best blank expression plastered on my face.

“Which one?”

“Don’t you try that, you know exactly which one I mean,” she rolled her eyes, dropping her food container onto the table and shifting her body to face towards me. “Ginger hair, likes to make jokes, had you rushing into work on your day off…” She fluttered her lashes at me as I frowned.

“It’s not like that and you know it.” I attempted to convince her as I dropped my container onto the table, all the while refusing to meet her eye.

“Then why wont you look at me and say that, huh?” she questioned, watching me innocently as I glanced at her out the corner of my eye. I sighed, turning towards her.

“He is a very nice guy, but he is my patient and I just wanted to check that he was doing okay after he woke up.” I hoped my explanation would be good enough, although once she set her mind to something, Imogen wasn’t the kind to be swayed.

“Well, you definitely didn’t just say that you don’t have a huge crush on him… So I'm just going to assume that you do.” She grinned triumphantly as I dropped my head back into the sofa, far too mentally exhausted to argue back.

“What do you think happened to them Im?” I turned the conversation in a completely different direction, the curiosity to discover the truth once again eating at me.

“No idea Els, no one will talk about it.” She shrugged, clearly not as interested to find the truth as I was.

“That doesn’t bother you? That so many people were hurt yet we have no idea how?” I questioned, earning another shrug from her.

“You don’t have to know everything Els, some things we’re just not meant to know.” I rolled my eyes at her attempt at being philosophical, grabbing a cushion and swinging it in her direction, hitting her over the head with a soft thud. She yelled in protest, grabbing her own pillow and launching it in my direction, making me instantly regret my decision to start something I’d never win.

“Imogen stop, I’m sorry for hitting you with the cushion!” I yelled with a laugh, holding up my hands in defeat after around five minutes of her pummelling me with the soft cushions, resulting in me toppling off the sofa and onto the floor. She grinned down at me deviously, placing her hand on her hip with a smirk.

“Admit that you have a crush on that Weasley boy and we’ll call it a tie.” I glared at her, annoyed that she would use this situation to pry a confession from me. I considered denying it once again and facing the consequences, however, memories of previous brutal pillow fights with Imogen had me leaning away from that option. I remained silent for a moment, going over my options in my head before coming to a decision.

“I suppose he is kind of cute…” I admitted with a smirk.

“Knew it!” she exclaimed, throwing the cushions behind her and hopping back into her chair as I quickly followed suit.

“Now,” she started as she wrapped herself back up in a blanket, allowing us to both get comfy before continuing, “Tell me all the ways in which Fred Weasley is cute, spare no details please.” I laughed, sinking into my chair as an unmistakable blush crept across my cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who's read the first chapter, I know that not much has happened, but I promise we'll get into it more soon so there's plenty to look forward to! Let me know anything you liked/disliked! AH x

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story upload on here so be gentle! Please let me know if you find the concept of the story interesting and if I should continue to upload. Feedback is always very welcome! Also, if you liked this, go check out the writings of Tearsofthepoppy, as I'm sure you will love them equally!


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